Somewhere Else is Closer Than You Think
by Benny The Crazed Cartoonist
Summary: Frisk stumbles upon an interesting artifact after they help Grillby get home one rainy night. No pairings.


**Edited in my usual half-effort style, so mistakes abound. Undertale characters do not and never will belong to me. **

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No one heard the rain storm until a huge flash of lightning shot to Earth, nearly drowning out the light inside of Grillby's Bar. Frisk and Papyrus were at the window, faces pressed against the glass and their game of cards abandoned on the table, before the thunder had a chance to make its booming reply to the lightning's crackle. Sans, napping in a booth, jolted awake and fell off the bench with an unceremonious _thwack_.

"Wowie! It's really coming down!" Papyrus faced Frisk for a split second, unwilling to take his eyes from the storm for too long. "Does it rain like this on the surface all the time, human?"

Frisk scaled their hands, something of a 'it depends' motion, before following his stare to the sheets of rain pounding at the window.

Sans came up behind the two of them, observing the squall with lidded eyes. "Hey, do you know why thunderstorms are king of weather?"

Frisk and Papyrus stared, the skeleton's eyes narrowing in suspicion, and the human's widening in excited anticipation.

"Because they _reign._"

"SANS!"

Sans' and Frisk's chortling lured Grillby from his spot in the kitchen. Upon entry to the bar area, they were all nearly blinded by another flash of lightning. Frisk, who had turned away, was the first to recover, and they noticed Grillby heave a sigh and rub under his glasses. An action that didn't spawn from the lightning. Perhaps he was tired?

Frisk crossed the room and leaped onto a bar stool before Grillby could open his eyes again. When he saw them so close, Grillby physically jumped, uttering an astonished curse under his breath. Frisk stared at him, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed. Grillby didn't look so good. His flames were lower than normal, burning a dark red colour as opposed to his usual bright oranges. Frisk touched their chest with the fingertips on both hands, and then flipped their hands downward.

Grillby mustered a smile. "No, dear one, not tired. Merely... frustrated." He scrubbed at his eyes again, leaning on the counter. "The rain just means I'll be spending the night in the bar."

Frisk's expression remained for a moment before understanding dawned. Another quick series of signs.

"Not in the rain. It's dangerous for me. What? Have I a bed? Not really, I shall just rest in one of the booths."

Well, that was simply unacceptable. Thinking about Grillby's discomfort all night, and the fact that they could do something to help the bartender get home, filled Frisk with DETERMINATION.

Quick as they arrived, Frisk hopped off the bar stool and dragged Sans over to the bar. Papyrus, curious by all the activity, trailed behind. "What is it, human?"

"Something wrong, kiddo?"

Frisk fired off a rapid spiel in sign, Sans and Papyrus watching closely. Once they were done, their hands lay still by their sides. Papyrus turned on Grillby. "No way will we allow you to stay in this greasy diner for the night! The three of us, mostly the Great Papyrus, will see you get home through the rain safely and still on fire, for I have a brilliant plan!" He leaned into a more heroic pose, gesturing flamboyantly at Sans. "My lazybones brother will muster the energy to transport us all to your very living room and you needn't pass through the rain at all! Another genius solution to a challenging puzzle by the Great Papyrus!" He tossed his head smugly as Frisk clapped.

"Er," Sans rubbed the back of his neck, "that's a great plan, Pap. Really. Only an amazing skeleton like you could come up with it."

"Naturally!"

"But, I can't teleport us to Grillby's house."

Papyrus deflated like a balloon. "Why not?"

"My magic has limits, bro. Can't shortcut to somewhere I've never been."

The four of them lapsed into silence, thinking hard. Well, three of them. Grillby began to wipe the counters.

Frisk perked. Running to the front door, they retrieved their umbrella from the stand, bringing it over to the bar. Grillby looked at them fondly, but shook his head. "It's coming down too hard for one umbrella to be effective."

Frisk held up a finger and Grillby fell silent at their request. Then the human pointed at Sans and Papyrus, holding their umbrella at a multitude of different angles.

"A human shield, huh?" Sans nodded approvingly. "That could work." Frisk beamed.

"It's really no trouble, I have stayed at the bar on numerous occasions~"

"Poppycock!" Papyrus barked, too excited by a plausible solution to listen to protest. "It's a wonderful idea! Excellent job, human! Between us we have four umbrellas, so Sans could guard the sheltered side with one while I bravely battle the direction opposite the wind is blowing! I shall use two umbrellas, of course, since I am more than capable of handling two at once." Sans snickered quietly at the word 'handle', and Papyrus didn't respond, but the tightness of his shoulders indicated quite clearly that he'd heard. Frisk giggled too, more at Sans' reaction than at Papyrus' unintentional pun.

They flagged down the pouting Papyrus with a waved hand, pointing at themself with a tilt of the head.

"You, human?" He replied, sulking forgotten. "Why, you shall have the most important job of all! You may sit on Grillby's shoulders, should he so desire, and hold an umbrella over his head!" Frisk nodded eagerly, and Papyrus clapped his hands as all was settled. "That's that then! Off we go!"

A slight shift from behind the bar drew Frisk's attention to Grillby. The fire elemental stared intently at the cleaning rag in his hand, flickering gently. He said nothing for a moment. "Thank you for your trouble."

"It's no trouble at all!"

"Wouldn't want to _rain_ on your good day anyway."

"Sans! That's the second lame rain pun in ten minutes!"

As the two skeletons dissolved into a familiar pattern of pun-retort-pun, Frisk climbed onto a barstool again, attempting to catch Grillby's eye. Finally, he looked at them. "...Really. Thank you."

Frisk smiled gently, covering one of the flaming monster's hands with their own. Anything for a friend.

Battle plan settled, the four of them suited up. Sans, characteristically inappropriately adorned for the weather, reclined in a booth as Papyrus helped Frisk into their bright yellow rain slicker, then slid into a matching one five times the size. Grillby vanished into the back of the bar to finish closing, emerging in a thick black coat and matching gloves, wrapping a dark wool scarf high around his neck. Frisk flicked a quick sign.

"No, a hat would unfortunately snuff me too much to be comfortable," Grillby replied. "I'm burning quite low as is. The umbrellas will have to do."

With the help Papyrus and a stool, Frisk settled on Grillby's shoulders with their purple duck umbrella in their hand. Papyrus and Sans left the bar first, three umbrellas bared against the storm, as Grillby hurriedly locked the door. Then, Papyrus on his right, Sans on his left, and Frisk protecting his open flame, they all started towards Grillby's home.

It wasn't far, thank the angel, but rain threatened to douse the fire elemental every second of the trip. Papyrus brandished his umbrellas like the noblest of swords, shouting encouragement the whole way. Sans' hoodie flapped so wildly that Frisk feared once or twice that the smaller skeleton would be blown off in the wind, but he held his ground and never did the grin on his face waver. Frisk themself tried their best to keep Grillby's head shielded from the wind, but winced every time a stray drop evaporated, hissing, against his flame. By the time they reached the dark oak cottage, Frisk's arms ached from battling the wind and their fingers were icy.

Protected from the wind and rain by the broadside of the cottage, Grillby unlocked the door and the sopping monsters (and one soaked human) practically fell inside. The interior, a small foyer with a doorway flanking each side, was utterly dark. Even as the door swung closed, Grillby's low flame began to burn brighter, warming Frisk pleasantly. They squeaked in protest as Papyrus lifted them off their personal heater.

"I agree, Grillby feels quite nice after that adventure, but I am sure he would not appreciate you dripping on him so soon after we masterfully escaped the rainstorm, human!"

Sans, quiet up until now, sneezed mightily.

Grillby's flame lifted to a fond yellow. "I will retrieve towels. Please make yourself comfortable."

"No need to _burn_ yourself out over us, Grillbz, I'll teleport us back home faster than _wildfire_." Frisk smiled over their concern for Sans.

Grillby held up a hand, an odd display of insistence. "I will make you something to warm yourselves before you go." He looked pointedly at Sans. "You need your full strength to transport three souls such a distance."

The skeleton's permanent smile eased slightly. "You know me so well."

The elemental moved to the left doorway before pausing and glancing at the ceiling. Frisk followed his gaze. No lights?

Ah, they supposed a monster made of fire wouldn't have much need of them.

They watched as Grillby pondered the conundrum for a split second. Then he touched a finger to the wall. Frisk gasped as the wooden trim along the length of the walls burst into flame, leaving a strip of fire at Grillby's shoulder level that wound into the adjacent rooms, illuminating them with a warm light. Frisk froze for a second, expecting the entire wall to alight, but the fire seemed to contentedly burn at the trim and nothing else. Grillby watched it for a second before disappearing into the next room, so it must have been safe.

Frisk peeled off their soaked rain slicker and boots, making a beeline for the room on the right. They'd never been in Grillby's house before, the bartender preferring to keep work and home life _very_ separate. Best to seize the chance to explore right away.

The next room was the same oak as the foyer, the trim burning around the perimeter and casting flickering shadows all around. A giant kitchen sat, spotless, before them and beyond that was a couch and a massive fireplace flanked by two more doors. They moved around, opening kitchen drawers and cupboards, as Sans and Papyrus came in after them. Papyrus found some kindling and set to work transferring some of the wall flame into the fireplace. Sans flopped onto the couch and set to work not moving an inch.

Kitchen thoroughly explored, Frisk hugged the perimeter until they came to the door on the right of the fireplace. Just a bathroom, dusty and unused. Not surprising. They picked their way around Papyrus, coaxing a flame to burn in the fireplace, and slipped through the other door into a hallway. The room directly in front of them revealed a modest bed and closet, but the room at the end of the hallway was shut tight. Frisk glanced over their shoulder. Not a soul in sight, but they could hear Papyrus' triumphant noise.

They tried the door. Locked? Or just stuck?

They tried again, and the handle gave. With one more quick glance over their shoulder and a brief pang of guilt (if Grillby hadn't wanted anyone in here, he would have locked it, right? Right.), they pushed the door open.

The room beyond was more of a large closet. As the door opened, the fire caught the trim inside the room and spread across the sides, meeting in the middle of the back wall. Frisk gaped.

Above their head hung a massive chestplate, the untarnished iron glinting yellow in the firelight. It was complete with armoured shoulder pads and a scarlet cape hanging nearly to the floor. On either side hung a sword long as they were tall. The sheer ferocity of the shine caused an involuntary breath to suck in between Frisk's teeth and they took a step back, half expecting to be burned by the reflection. When nothing happened except the continued hanging of the armour, they relaxed, approaching it a little. One hand reached up, impossibly small compared to the giant piece of armour, and stroked the metal. Warm, for some reason.

"Find anything interesting?"

Frisk leaped back, a silent squeal dying in their throat. Sans leaned casually against the doorframe, hands in his hoodie pockets, staring at them with lidded sockets. Frisk looked between him and the armour, trying desperately not to feel like a kid with their hand in a cookie jar. They smiled weakly.

"I'll take that as a yes," their skeleton friend smirked. He cast his eyes to the armour, humour fading in his eyes a little.

He looked to Frisk again as they signed a little. "Yeah, this was his. Impressive isn't it?" A few more signs, and Sans pushed himself off the doorframe to stand by their side, staring at the armour. "No, not anymore. His fightin' days are behind him now. This was from the war, the war between monsters and humans. What? Oh, no, that's his story to tell."He winked. "I'm sure he'd _lava_ to tell you about it."

Frisk aimed a playful swat at their friend's head. Then they spun around when they noticed a flicker in the doorway. There stood Grillby, changed into a checkered robe and holding two steaming mugs. He didn't say anything, watching Frisk.

They glanced to Sans for moral support, but the room remained decidedly empty aside from them. No doubt he was lounging on the couch, innocent as a lamb.

Traitor.

Frisk signed a question. Grillby came into the room to stand beside them, staring at the armour as his flames crackled in an expression Frisk didn't yet recognize. "My war armour, yes. It was from... quite a long time ago."

Another question. "I wasn't there when the war started, dear one." A quiet chuckle, "I'm not quite that old. I was recruited later, asked to fight on the front lines. I was one of the last monsters to make it into the underground before the barrier was complete." He gazed at Frisk's rapid sign, smiling gently. "It's not a time I find very nice to remember."

Frisk frowned, looking back and forth between the armour and the elemental. They circled one fist over their heart.

"No need to be sorry. Even though the war is over, I can't find myself willing to part with this. Someone was bound to find it eventually. I'm just glad it was you."

Frisk beamed.

They stood for a moment more, Grillby passing over one of the steaming cups (which revealed itself to be smooth, rich hot chocolate), and basked in each others' silence. Then Grillby turned. "Shall we join the others?" Frisk nodded, following Grillby out into the hall. They shut the door solidly behind them, cutting off the wounds of the past from the warmth of the future. The brass handle felt oddly symbolic under their hands.

Papyrus brightened upon their arrival, grin coated in a brown layer from his own hot chocolate. Sans barely glanced up, but there was something decidedly satisfied in the gentle glow of his eye lights. Frisk would have to press that later, but for now they plopped down in front of the fire with Papyrus. Grillby passed his other cup to Sans, dropping onto the couch beside the smaller skeleton.

They finished their hot chocolate with chatter and laughter, considerably warmer by the time all cups were empty. The sounds of the rainstorm outside were drowned out by the crackling of the fire, both living and not. Finally, when Frisk actually nodded off in Grillby's lap, the three of them moved to go.

Frisk looked up sleepily as Grillby passed them into Papyrus' waiting arms. They flicked an open hand down from their chin.

They felt, more than saw, Grillby's responding smile. "No, thank you, dear one. I wouldn't have gotten home tonight without you." A pause. "And if you ever have any... questions, I would be happy to answer them."

Papyrus gave a confused noise, but Frisk's heart swelled at the honour. They nodded. They would definitely take him up on that one day.

Sans stood, shaking off sleep. They all said a final goodbye to Grillby, then Sans' eye flashed blue and they were gone quick as lightening.

_**END**_


End file.
